


my life out of people's faces

by orphan_account



Category: Figure Skating RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-09-29
Updated: 2010-09-29
Packaged: 2017-10-12 07:34:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,170
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/122487
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Warning: BAD BAD BAD ILLEGAL STUFF happens in this fic, and some of the stuff is not just borderline unethical and like. PEOPLE TRYING TO MAKE MONEY, okay? So, beware while reading.</p><p>THIS IS NOT A HAPPY FIC. Well. It has some happy bits. But overall? Yeah, no.</p>
    </blockquote>





	my life out of people's faces

**Author's Note:**

> Warning: BAD BAD BAD ILLEGAL STUFF happens in this fic, and some of the stuff is not just borderline unethical and like. PEOPLE TRYING TO MAKE MONEY, okay? So, beware while reading.
> 
> THIS IS NOT A HAPPY FIC. Well. It has some happy bits. But overall? Yeah, no.

The fun thing about doing shows in Japan is that it feels like they're rock stars, instead of successfull yet vaguely lame figure skaters. The fans, the presents, the _tour bus_. Adam loves the tour bus. He had sex in this tour bus while everyone else was out eating sushi. Sex with a cute, tiny little Japanese emo boy with black hair the shape of an avocado and dressed in what looked like eighties retro pants. Not that Adam's complaining. On the opposite, getting those off was a _challenge_.

But aside from the sex, there are other things that are fun as well, of course: the impromptu bus-karaoke once Rachael finds the appropriate button to make the mike work, the girly girls in the back seat of the bus, giggling and dishing dirt about boys, and of course the same girls inviting him in to giggle and dish the dirt about boys _with them_ ; they're very unopportunistic that way, which Adam finds enviable. It's not like they don't know that they will never get the chance to tap any of that ass, seeing as most of the guys on tour are gayer than rainbows and owning up to it without an ounce of shame (as they should). He feels sorry for the poor ladies. There used to be a time when they got at least one or two goes with a guy before he moved on to realize that he preferred to suck dick. Alas, times they were a-changing.

His idyllic reverie is interrupted when, almost by accident, Adam finds out that the girls are long not as innocuous as he first thought, because two days after he tells them about Michal's quest to seduce Takahiko, Alena starts collecting money from Ashley, Mao, Mirai, Caroline and Elene, and when he asks, she just smirks and says, "Well, Ashley was sure it would take him at least three days, Caro said four, Mao and Mirai both voted for Taka not giving in, and Elene was sure he'd do it in a day. Apparently, Michal's a bit of a flirt that way."

Adam coughs. Apparently, they have no _idea_. "So you're doing what - betting? How did you even find out if they did it?"

"We asked," Ashley rolls her eyes. "It's not like Brezina's shy about his conquests. And Taka's been looking dreamy all morning."

"You guys are evil. If anyone gets wind of this, there will be _trouble_."

"Since when are you such a goody two-shoes?" Elene teases. "Here I thought you'd be the first one to jump at the chance."

"The first - wait, it's not just you? Who else is in on this besides Michelle? Does he, like. Jesus fucking H Christ, he's getting a _cut_ , isn't he?"

The girls all grin at him and shrug and move along back into the tour bus; they're making a stop at Nagano today, where there will be another show in the evening, and the coaches are getting impatient. The officials don't like prolonged stays or small groups of skaters conspiring amongst themselves - which, seeing as what he just found out, might not actually be a dumb regulation.

When Adam settles next to Stephen, letting his head thump against his backrest, his mind boggling at the idea of _illegal gambling on people's sexcapades_ , Stephen gives him a weird look and asks, "What was that all about?"

"Just the girls hatching evil plans of world domination," Adam tells him with a half-smile. "What else is new?" He takes the earbud Stephen offers, even though he has his own ipod - sometimes, sharing is nicer, especially when you share a taste in music - and asks, "So, hey... is there anyone on this trip you fancy having a go with?"

Stephen's mouth drops open and he snorts. "So that's what you giggle about when you're with them, huh? Typical, do you ever think with anything but your dick?"

"I don't hear you answering my question," Adam says.

Stephen rolls his eyes and shakes his head. "No, Adam. There's no one but you in my heart, if you must know, and there never will be." He keeps his eyes huge and shiney, batting his eyelashes frequently enough that Adam has to splutter with laughter before he asks, "Something in your eye, baby?"

"Shut up," Stephen says.

"Here, let me kiss it better."

"Get _off_ -"

"- but you said -"

"- Adam, I swear to god -"

"Silence on the cheap seats," Brian Orser yells from the front of the bus. "That means you, Adam Rippon."

Adam gasps loudly. "That's secernation, it is, discrimination, I would call it!"

"It's secernment, dipshit," Stephen tells him, and covers Adam's mouth with his hand. "And now sit down, you're causing a commotion."

"Know-it-all geek," Adam slobbers over his fingers.

"Fish biscuit," Stephen says, and wipes them on Adam's shirt. "How the hell do people manage to make you shut up?" Adam opens his mouth to reply, but Stephen cuts him off. "Aside from _that_."

Adam grins. "Here, let me show you..." and then he's pressing their lips together, waiting till Stephen opens up under the kiss to push his tongue into his mouth.

A stuffed toy hits the side of his head, making him break off with a slurping sound.

" _What_?"

"Stop defiling the tour bus," Amodio tells him, and next to him, Armin snickers and throws another one, hitting Adam square in the chest.

Adam catches it in mid-fall, mock-glares at them, and then yelps with glee, "Oh, you're _on_!"

 

~*~

 

The first time Adam's on the receiving end of a bet, he's been working on getting Greg Zuerlein in his bed for about half a day. That evening, three girls and two guys, neatly seperated by ten-minute breaks, one after another come up to him, promising him various percentages of their win if he fucks Greg at a specific time - from 'before lights-out tonight would be best' to 'hold off till after the gala, man, you'd do me a huge favor'. It's hilarious and a little exhilarating, and it adds some of the old spark to the chase to have a deadline for his seduction.

Greg follows his lead, docile like a doe, and Adam's almost surprised when they land in bed together perfectly planned, after the free skate, because he'd heard that Greg wasn't all that easy to get into bed these days. The free was not his best skate, but it's the first competition of the season, and it was good enough to get him on the podium, while Greg won the event with Maddi. They have enthusiastic, _good_ sex, twice. Afterwards, they lie side by side in the bed, breathing hard, giving each other soppy smiles, and Greg says, "So, do I get half now or what?"

And the pieces of the puzzle fall together. Adam stares at him for a while before he blinks, and tries, "What?"

Greg rolls his eyes. "Maddi said there was some sort of bet going on, about when you'd manage to finally tumble me. And, like, it's not like I didn't want to have sex anyway, so I figured I'd let you decide when, since you'd know about the best offer and we could both get some of the pot. She said there was a fairly large sum riding on us doing it sometime this weekend."

"Wow," Adam says, and feels like he's been played, until, of course, he realizes that this changes pretty much nothing. "Hm, I think Kharis won this one, and she promised me fifteen percent, so we should be able to get another fifteen out of her, since you played along so nicely. If she doesn't go for it, we can always say we didn't fuck yet." He turns onto his side and smiles at Greg. "That okay?"

Greg nods and pulls him close, kissing the corner of his mouth. "Perfect." Then he rolls them over and lands between Adam's legs, pushing them up and apart with his hands. "You up for another round?"

Adam smiles and closes his eyes. "Always."

 

~*~

 

Adam is very glad to see Stephen at his second GP event of the season, because hanging out with him during competitions is always fun. They immediately pick each other as roomies, and once they're settled, bags put away, Stephen goes for his laptop and lies down on his stomach on the bed, focussing all his attention on his typing. Adam texts a few people, calls his mom, starts organizing the afterparty for saturday evening and then rolls onto his back and stares at the ceiling, trying to get his shit together for practice time later.

"How big is the chance, d'you think, of either of us winning this one?" he finally asks.

"Mediocre to not so good," Stephen mumbles around his chewing gum and pops a bubble. "Your triple axel has a success rate of ten percent these days, and my PCS are still under baltic sea level."

Adam snorts. "That doesn't even make sense."

"Don't see you protesting my 3A claim, though," Stephen smirks at him.

Adam jumps up off the bed and grabs his handbag. "I want food. We should check if the girls want to join, I saw a burger place down the street when we passed on the bus. You coming or are you staying here to jerk off to bad internet pornography while you have the room to yourself?"

"All right, all right, keep your pants on," Stephen tells him and gets up as well. He does let Adam link their elbows on their way out, which is nice of him, especially since he leans in and lets Adam nuzzle into his neck, too.

Two days later, Stephen is not nearly as forthcoming anymore, after having caught Adam with Andrei in their room.

"Not. In our fucking room. Rippon," he snaps when they scramble apart, and Adam yanks the sheets up over them. "How many goddamn times?" He slams the door behind him.

Adam manages to find him in the hotel restaurant, drinking hot tea and scribbling into that journal of his that he carries around.

"Sorry," he says and sits down. "I'm sorry, we just ran out of places, and I was certain you were out with Katrina and Becky until after dinner. Christ."

Stephen snorts. "Yeah, I could see that." He stares at Adam. "Today, though? Really? How does Orser not kill you?" It's the day before the free skate. All their thoughts are supposed to be on figure skating, and not on fucking.

Adam can't help it. It's not like seperates those two a lot anyway. "Best time was today," he shrugs, and then remembers that Stephen has no idea about any of the gambles.

Stephen gives him a weird look, but lets it go. "Yeah, whatever," he says. "Did you air out and everything? Can I safely go back without getting a STD by association?"

"Yeah, come on. He even left some stuff, so we can, like." Adam wriggles his eyebrows. "Relax."

Adam doesn't know why he said that, because Stephen does not usually partake in any _illegal_ silliness, despite his overall silly dork behavior; he's one of those upstanding, responsible ones, occasional drag show aside. But Stephen surprises the fuck out of him when he snaps up his notebook, nods towards the exit and says, "Fine. Let's go."

They push the bed around so it's directly underneath the window, which they leave on half-open, just in case there's fire alarm in the hotel, or should some of the adults come in to check up on them. They have two joints between the six of them, but it works out all right because even though Katrina and Becky get giggly after just one hit, Alex and Maia are hardcore enough to hold out till the end, so he won't be lacking in company until he's good and baked.

"We'll be so fucked tomorrow in the free," Maia groans when Alex falls over into her lap, and starts snoring.

Adam feels the rumble of laughter start in his chest, but doesn't giggle out loud because Stephen chooses this moment to slide under his arm and kiss his neck, grazing his teeth against his skin. Adam's breath hitches and he shifts, feeling his dick grow hard.

"Oh god," Katrina snorts. "Stephen." She starts giggling and laughs so hard that she tumbles off the bed on the side.

"Shut up, Jesus," Adam says and shifts again. Stephen sighs into his skin, his breath warm and hot. His eyelashes are long and incredibly dark against his cheekbones.

"You're soooooo high, Steve," Becky laughs.

"You're higher," Stephen mumbles.

Adam shivers and closes his eyes before he turns his head to put their lips together for a short kiss. "Don't fall asleep," he whispers. "You'll miss the best part."

Stephen gives a little sound and catches Adam's lips again, like that was all that was missing from this set-up. "Shut up," he mumbles, but with a smile, taking the sting out of the words, and adds, "This _is_ the best part."

 

~*~

 

"Michelle, heeey," Adam greets, phone between his ear and shoulder. He hits enter on his keyboard and watches his message turn up on facebook. He cannot believe his mom has a computer that's from the, like, nineties. It's so slow! "How's life without a shirt?" he starts off their weekly banter.

"So that was you, you fucker. I knew it," Michal replies. Adam can hear the smirk stretching his lips. "And stop calling me that. It gets old really fast."

"What's going on, man?" Adam asks. "Is this about the Tomas thing? Because I told you I only fucked him the once, and it wasn't even a real fuck, he's, like. Almost straight, how awesome is that?"

"He was mine," Michal says, and though he's sounding amused, there's a warning lingering in the corner of his mouth. "Not cool, man. I was working on that."

"He couldn't resist my charm," Adam tells him. "He knows you too well, you'd have never gotten him to give it up to you."

"So who do I get to do instead, to get back at you?" Michal asks. "Maybe I should do the Carriere kid. I hear you're no farther than a kiss with him, and how long's that been on your list?"

"Hands off," Adam warns. "And there was tongue."

"And yet, he doesn't want your ass. How much money's running on that anyway?" Michal sounds devilish. There's nothing that gets him going quite as much as a good, solid dare with enough people pitching in on it.

Adam snorts. "Too much, man. Mroz dared him to blow me. Hundred bucks, on the hand. And then Ross and Dion joined in, the pot's up to four hundred now, can you believe it?"

"He would get your dick _and_ four hundred, and he didn't go for it? Did someone tell him you have warts on your dick or something?"

"Shut up, and no, he just passed up Brandon's. The five are on me now. I think even Carriere would lose his chastity belt for that kind of money."

Michal cackles. "How well do you know him again? Man, if he didn't give it up for a hundred, he won't for any money in the world."

"How would you know -?"

"Just go ahead, go ahead and ask him to go fifty-fifty. But it'll be your loss, because he'll say no."

"I don't get it, though," Adam says. "Seriously, that kind of money _and_ absolutely spectacular sex with _me_ -"

"You're an idiot."

"What? Why?"

"He's a total girl, man. It's obvious what he's saving it for."

"What?"

"Uh. _Love_ , duh?" Michal's voice drips with disdain. "If you want the bucks, you have to make him believe you're into it because you like him."

"But I do like him. He's nice. And he has that sweet thing he does where he flushes redhot when someone gives him a compliment, it's adorable, but he never does that whole thing that's so irritating when people say it's not true or whatever, he just stammers and says thank you and -"

"Adam."

"What?"

" _Seriously_? Did you just hear yourself?"

Adam scoffs. "What's wrong with liking someone? I can be friends with people, unlike _someone_ I could name."

"When I said _like_ , I meant, he has to be in love with you, you idiot, and he has to believe that you're in love with him, too. Are you?"

"No!" Adam says. "Who's talking about love, that's for girls, right."

"Right."

Adam rolls his shoulders and clicks on his bookmark to his favorite porn site. "Anyway, I gotta go -"

"- just don't get spunk on that photo of my face on your screen," Michal warns, and when Adam protests wildly, he just laughs and adds, "By the way. If you really do manage to get Stevie in bed? I'll make it a full half grand, man. Show me what you got, and not just on almost-straight guys. Love-believers are the hardest to crack."

Adam snorts. "Well, we'll just see about that."

 

~*~

 

The funny thing is that it's not even all that hard, once he gets the whole courting thing going. It is annoying that he can't be having sex with anyone, because he can't trust people not to go reporting back to Stephen that he's not faithful (he's asked Becky, who claims being faithful is instrumental to being in a loving relationship, which Adam thinks is sort of bullshit, but what does he know). But he can live with just his hand and shy kisses for a few weeks if it means five hundred and the eternal admiration of the crowd.

By the end of the second week, Michal calls and tells him that they're up to a thousand, because some other people joined in when they got wind of what was going on. It raises the pressure, but by then, Stephen has implemented the use of the word boyfriend, they talk on the phone a few times a week, and by the time Nationals rolls around, they've met halfway between their locations for three dates already. And Adam finds that he doesn't mind any of it, not the phone calls, which he thought he'd grow tired of, not the car drives, which would be a bitch if he didn't look forward to spending time with Stephen. It's... sort of nice, actually, to have someone there, steady and unfaltering, whenever he needs to vent or share something great that happened. He had his friends for that, before, but this feels different.

The first evening at the venue, Stephen catches him on his way from the rink back to the hotel, grabs his hand, smiling widely. "So, I was thinking, dinner and a movie tonight?" he asks.

Adam grins back easily, and leans forward to return the kiss when Stephen goes for it. "I know which one!" he says, "Let's see if they're playing the third Star Trek movie in a theater somewhere, it's been in the cinemas for two weeks but I haven't gotten around to seeing it yet."

"Sounds good," Stephen replies. "I'll check, you go shower. Any wishes for food?"

They compromise on Indian; it's strange, it doesn't take them more than two minutes to figure out what the other wants and adjust to their respective desire. Adam tries not to waste too much thoughts on it. Maybe they just fit together well. They've always been good friends, after all.

"Okay, see you later," Stephen tells him and kisses him again.

Adam's lips buzz for minutes afterwards, and he can't help but think that maybe tonight will be sort of special.

 

He has good instincts.

After the movie - of which they spent all the time that wasn't filled with explosions making out - they return to their hotel room just in time to miss curfew. It's tragic. Brian and Kurt both have colorful choice words about their irresponsible behaviour. It is, however, not nearly as bad as Adam feared, since all throughout the lecture, Stephen's hand is firmly planted on his ass. And then, afterwards, Stephen pushes him onto the bed and climbs on top of him and for the first time it's Stephen's hand on Adam's erection, without and pants in between, without their boxer shorts in the way, just skin on skin, sliding together a little wet and oh so hot.

Stephen's not very good at the whole jerking-someone-else-off thing, probably, Adam figures, because he hasn't done it a lot, but once Adam shows him what he likes, it gets better. Stephen's eyes are bright, half-closed with pleasure when they kiss, and Adam rubs his cheek with his thumb and says, "Fuck," right before he comes. Stephen's lips taste like the sour apple rings they shared at the movies.

Adam doesn't wait long for his glow to fizzle out; Stephen's panting, and reaching down to finish himself off, which is so not happening.

"Not happening," Adam tells him, grinning.

Stephen smiles back at him, wide and happy, and says, "Show me what you got, then, Rippon," with that teasing note in his voice that makes Adam pull out all stops. He has Stephen coming apart underneath his hands in two minutes, gasping, moaning into Adam's neck like he's dying.

Adam feels really proud of himself when they lie curled up together afterwards, especially when Stephen nuzzles his shoulderbone and says, "Wow. That... was good."

"And that was just handjobs," he replies happily, and can't wait for Stephen to let him put his mouth on him.

 

~*~

 

Of course, it's not that easy. Things never are.

"Yeah, no," Michal tells him the next day on the phone. Adam called him right after waking up, tip-toing carefully out of the room and into the hotel hallway. "A handjob? Are you fucking kidding me? I could have made him give me that in a dark alley behind the rink. There are nine hundred forty two dollars in this hat, honey. Anything less than a full fuck won't satisfy the jury, I'm afraid."

"Who's the jury?" Adam asks meanly. "You? What, you want a tape, just in case I'm lying?"

"As sweet as that would be, I don't think any of us actually want to destroy any careers. By the way, I'm betting on Sunday morning, just before gala practice, so, you know..."

"Fuck off -"

"Touchy." Michal laughs. "Come on, cheer up. It's not like he's going to mind."

Adam tries to tell himself that that is true, but somehow, it's not working. He sighs. "Tell me, though, who else is in on this one? Does Brandon -"

"Adam?"

Adam whirls around, breath catching. Stephen's standing right behind him, looking at him strangely. Adam feels his heart beat so hard he thinks he's going to puke, and his stomach scrunches up into a tiny little ball, panic making his vision swim. "Stephen," he croaks. "How long -?"

Stephen frowns. "Are you still doing that stupid gambling thing? I thought you guys were done with that. You really shouldn't, the officials will blow a fuse if they get as much as a sniff that something like this is going on."

"Uh, Michal," Adam mutters towards the phone. "Give me - I'll call you back, all right?" Michal laughs into his ear, but says okay. Adam breathes a little easier then, tells himself it's going to be all right, because Stephen doesn't know, he hasn't - he didn't hear - but he's still half in shock, feeling faint and unsure in his footing. This is not over yet. He snaps his cell shut and clenches his fist around it, then turns to Stephen full. "Morning," he tries, and gives it his cutest puppy dog eyes.

"Don't morning me," Stephen says. He's half-smiling, but it doesn't reach his eyes.

"It's just a game. Don't worry about it. Come on." Adam takes his hand and pulls him back into the room. He doesn't know what else to do, so he wanders them over onto the bed, makes Stephen sit down and climbs up into his lap, moving slowly on top of him as they kiss. Stephen is pliant and warm, and sleepy still, and when he falls back into the mattress, Adam follows, covering him with his own body, rocking against him until they both come messily on each other's stomach.

"I need a shower," Stephen says afterwards, disentangling them, and vanishes into the bathroom, leaving Adam with a hollow feeling in his chest. He feels like he should be happy, glowing, after all, he just had good sex.

Later, at breakfast, and then during morning practice, everything seems fine again, though. Adam tries not to worry too much. After all, as Stephen always says, it would be a shame if he got bald from that.

 

~*~

 

They exchange giddy (and in Stephen's case, sloppy, inexperienced, but very enthusiastic) blowjobs after the short, hidden away in a storage room behind the changing rooms; the entrance door read 'Empoyees Only'. Stephen's in first place, impeccable, not a single error in his whole program. Adam hasn't been able to concentrate so well and fell on his axel, which landed him in fourth.

"You were gorgeous," Adam tells him. Brian always says he shouldn't watch, that it'll just mess with his zen, but Adam is too curious for his own good, and it calms him down, somehow, to watch and _know_ what his competitors did.

"You need to work on keeping your head in your game," Stephen tells him, and pets his curly head. Adam smiles up at him and sucks him off again for that, just to prove him something. He's not quite sure what. It's... nice, though. That they can be friends, and have sex like this, and that they still work, together, that they can tease and cuddle and sit on each other during meals and be silly together.

Stephen takes off first, so they don't get caught coming out of the tiny room together, and it's only after a minute that Adam emerges. He runs his fingers through his hair, wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. He doesn't expect anyone to be waiting for him outside, which makes Brandon's appearance all the more of a surprise.

"Huh," Adam says, starled. "What are you doing here?"

"Waiting for you," Brandon says. "Look, we should talk."

"What? Why?" Adam waves towards the exit. "I was on my way to the hotel - I think Brian -"

"This will just take a second, okay?" Brandon grabs his wrist and keeps him from flailing around. "Look, about Stevie."

"What?" Adam grows immediately defensive and tries to stomp down on the feeling.

"I thought - that thing I said, about the hundred bucks - that was a _joke_. I said it _in front of Stephen and you_ because you guys were - I thought it would help you to get together for _real_. I didn't mean for it to get out of hand like this, but now it's totally loose and - fuck, Adam, you should call it off, whatever it is you're doing. He's in love with you, and how do you think is he going to feel when he finds out that _everyone_ had money on him having sex with you?"

Adam crosses his arms in front of his chest, pulling his wrist from Brandon's fingers in the process. The hollow sensation is back, but he ignores it and lifts his chin. "How is that any of my business?" he asks.

Brandon looks at him strangely. "You're not that big an asshole, Rippon. Don't do it. He's going to be made fun of by everyone, because everyone knows about this by now except for him. He's already a huge joke, since you don't exactly keep your - your smooching a secret."

"Smooching?" Adam scoffs.

"Yeah, _way_ to concentrate on the essentials," Brandon snaps. "Fuck you -"

"Why do you even care?" Adam asks. "Are you in love with him yourself or something?" The thought makes something jolt up his spine, and his stomach rolls. He ignores it.

"I'm not," Brandon says calmly. "But at least I'm human being enough to not want anyone ending up hurt like this; if someone was playing you like that, I'd have done the same thing for you."

"Well, thanks, but I don't need you to stick your nose in my business -"

"- except it's not just your business anymore, is it."

"It's certainly not yours." Adam turns around on his heel. He doesn't want to listen to this anymore. He gets it, he does, and Brandon's words don't exactly make him feel good about himself, but damnit, he can't pull out now. Everyone will think he's failed, or worse, that he's fallen for - and it's a lot of money, sort of, and he doesn't want everyone to know that he couldn't go through with a simple thing like this. It's just sex, after all. Stephen'll get over it. He's been having fun, after all, right? Adam hasn't heard him complain yet about the _awesome_ sex they've been having.

"I can't even decide what it is with you," Brandon calls after him, and he sounds truly angry. "If you're just that big a whore for the money or if it's your fucking ego that couldn't take it."

Adam waves at him without even looking back.

Brandon catches up with him by the exit, and he's been swearing, which he almost never does. He must be really mad. "You have till after the free," he says. An ultimatim. "I'm telling him if you don't call it all off till then."

Adam snorts and pulls the door open, wave of cold air hitting him in the face. "Fuck off," he says.

"Adam, I swear, if you fuck him up before the free, this competition will be over for all of us. I'll go to the officials with the proof I have of the gambling that goes on, and you can _bet_ , as you so love to do, that they'll take measures. Never mind the coaches and parents."

"Like you would. You bet yourself on some -"  
"I'm willing to deal with the consequences. Are you?"

"Fuck." Adam walks out.

"Adam -"

"Fuck off, oh my god, just - fine. I'll call it off," Adam tells him, and he doesn't know himself in that moment if he's lying or not.

 

~*~

 

Adam doesn't call it off. But he also doesn't fuck Stephen before the free. He doesn't see Brandon talking to Stephen either, not beforehand, or after the medal ceremony, which they all three get to participate in. And Stephen doesn't act like anything's wrong; he smiles and beams - and when they get a second away from cameras and fans, they share a kiss, short and sweet, and Stephen tells him, "Later, okay? Right now, there's a press conference and stuff."

He doesn't plan it, hell, he's not even the one who initiates it, but apparently, once Stephen has made up his mind, he goes all the way, because even though that evening, after the baquet and partying with the other boys and spending time with the other skaters, they don't have sex anymore, just fall asleep curled up together, the next morning, Stephen pulls him close and kisses the air out of him, rubbing their naked bodies together until they're both gasping.

Stephen gets condoms, and Adam gets the lube from the nightstand, where he kept it for the past few days, and it turns out Stephen's better at this part than he is at giving blowjobs.

"Careful," Adam advises him, moving his hips in time with Stephen's fingers, enjoying the stretch, and gasps, and gasps, and gasps when Stephen moves inside him, rocking forward, snapping their hips together while holding Adam up with an arm around his back, making him work for his orgasm. It doesn't take long till it washes over him, hard and fast, leaving him with his limbs made of melted butter.

"We have to get to gala rehearsal," Stephen says, a few minutes later, but he doesn't sound like he wants to move at all. He just glances at the clock and licks his lips. He's pale, and there's a frown where he should be laughing, because they just had, like, that kind of sex, the best kind, because he was just inside Adam, fucking him until they both came apart.

Adam kisses the corner of his mouth. "We do," he says.

"But if we hurry up in the shower later, we have another half an hour." He sounds uncertain suddenly, like he can't quite believe he's saying this. His teeth catch Adam's lips this time, and he kisses fiercely, like he has to prove something, like he wants to eat Adam alive. When they part, he's out of breath; he buries his face in Adam's neck and says, "You can fuck me, if you want."

Adam's heart starts beating really fast, and his stomach clenches, but he wants. He wants to really badly, and he only thinks about Michal and the whole _stupid_ thing for a split second before he shakes his head, shakes it all away, off him, and says, "Yes. Yes, yes, yes yes yes, Jesus, of course I want."

Stephen looks scared, but mostly stubborn, and when Adam asks, "Are you sure?", he half-glares and says, "I wouldn't have offered if I wasn't."

Adam moves them around until Stephen's on his stomach, with his left arm under his chin, and then it's mostly smooth from there, because he's actually done this before a couple of times (or more) and he can make people _fly_ , and it's almost like all the people before, every time he did it, was in preparation for this, so it could be good - brilliant - for Stephen, and it is. He drapes himself over Stephen's back as he pushes in, listening for the little stuttered intakes of breath that are of pleasure, very little pain, and then he's inside, and it's hot and tight and heavenly and Stephen's breathing hard into his arm, eyes squeezed shut.

"Does - can I -"

"Move!" Stephen whispers, "Please, just -"

So Adam moves, thrusting forward with his hips, and in little circles until Stephen's blind with pleasure, until he's shuddering and tightening around Adam's dick and arching his back into the motion of their bodies, reaching for another kiss that Adam gives him.

It's all tacky as hell, and Adam thinks, for a moment, that this is, like, a dream, maybe, or a hallucination. It feels completely unreal, it feels like it's happening to someone else. But then the moment is over, and Stephen's coming, clenching around him, making Adam follow suit, and despite being a healthy tween boy, twice in a row this quickly is enough to wipe anyone out.

He pulls out, lets the condom fall next to the bed somewhere - clean-up will get it - and by the time he's back in a comfortable position, Stephen's curled up into himself, lying on the side, facing away from Adam, which gives Adam enough space to spoon up behind him, putting his arm over his hips, licking at his shoulder. There is a glowy tint to his vision that Adam really loves, like his belly has turned into liquid gold and is sloshing around in there.

And of course, then Stephen goes and says, in a hoarse sort of voice that is very flat, "So, all this about a bet, huh," and it's not even a question, it's like he's known forever.

Adam's belly turns from liquid to stone. He doesn't know what to say, because 'What?' would be playing dumb, which would be _stupid_ because Stephen obviously knows, fucking Brandon, fucking fuck, and saying 'yes' wouldn't be _true_ , because it's not, not all of it, not even the biggest part of it.

Stephen gives a choked-off laugh, like someone's pulling a razor from his throat, slithers out of Adam's grip that has turned vise-like in the past few seconds and sits up, naked, and his eyes are shielded, his face giving away nothing. "I guess you should be calling someone now. I'll catch a shower. I'll see you at the gala practice."

Adam watches him tap towards the bathroom door, and when Stephen's fingers close around the handle, knuckles white - that has to hurt, damnit - he manages to find his voice. "Stephen -"

"Don't. Shit." Stephen shakes his head and gives a dry little sound that could be a sob except for how his face is still giving away nothing.

"Why -?"

Stephen doesn't seem like he wants to explain himself, though, because he vanishes into the bathroom, closing the door behind him, leaving Adam sitting on the bed, frozen, unable to grasp what just happened.

For a moment, he wonders why it hurts so fucking much when Stephen wasn't even crying, except then the shower starts up inside, and it doesn't quite drown out the sound of sobbing, and Adam sees that his cell phone is ringing, so he tells his heart to fuck the fucking fuck off and goes to pick up.

 

~*~

The End.


End file.
